


Merry Christmas, Indeed

by wolfish_willow



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Christmas, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Ratings: G, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-02
Updated: 2011-12-02
Packaged: 2017-10-31 19:00:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfish_willow/pseuds/wolfish_willow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam attends the Novak's Christmas party every year, but this year he's determined to finally ask Gabriel Novak out on a date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merry Christmas, Indeed

**Author's Note:**

> **Notes 1:** Unbeta'd, but I did read it over myself before posting.  
>  **Notes 2:** I was listening to Clay Aiken's Christmas album and during one of the songs I got the idea for a Sam/Gabriel AU Christmas fic. And [](http://insertcode11.livejournal.com/profile)[**insertcode11**](http://insertcode11.livejournal.com/) wouldn't stop IMing me until I started writing it, because she's awesome like that. So, this was thought up and written all in one day. I feel kind of awesome.

Sam looks across the room through his lashes, head tilted toward the floor. His fingers twitch nervously across the box in his hands. Christmas music plays softly in the background, just audible over the din of multiple conversations going on in the large room.  


  
It's the Novak's annual Christmas party. Every year the people who attend spend their mornings opening presents with their families – he and Dean exchanged gifts after breakfast that morning – and then get to party that evening. Gabriel and Castiel, and their parents before they were old enough to take it over, have thrown parties like this - and for just about every holiday they can use as an excuse to con their friends into having a good time and drinking so much that Gabriel probably has _years_ of blackmail material saved up in some box in his room – since Sam can remember. He's been coming since his father got an invite from Mr. Novak himself, the first year they moved into the house across the street when Sam was seven. He hasn't missed a year since, always careful to have at least this day free, even if it means taking an extra shift or two at whatever job he's got each year – this year he's been working at the bookstore through the break from school and only has to work a couple extra hours next week.  


  
Gabriel is standing at the opposite end of the room, leaning back against the wall casually. He looks as amazing as ever. Sam thinks he looks great in just about anything, but Christmas is always a treat. His honey brown hair is slicked back just enough to stay out of his eyes, but not so much that it looks greasy and Sam's fingers twitch again, for an entirely different reason than the anxiety flowing through him. He's wanted to touch it since he was fourteen – even before that, though he hadn't understood the reason until he started high school and figured out exactly _why_ he felt like blushing whenever Gabriel threw a smile his way, even after having known him for seven years. Gabriel _still_ makes him feel that way; still causes his stomach to flip whenever he sets those twinkling amber eyes on Sam and smiles.  


  
Gabriel is donned in a silver vest over a white, long sleeved shirt – sleeves rolled up just above his elbows – and a worn pair of black jeans Sam has seen him wear more times than he can count. It should look like a strange combination, the mix of formal and casual-wear, but this is Gabriel and he could pull off a pair of bright pink, candy cane pajama pants if he wanted to – Sam's not entirely certain Gabriel _doesn't_ own a few crazy outfits, even if he doesn’t actually wear them out much. He's holding a plate of food in one hand and a plastic fork in the other while he chats amiably with someone Sam doesn't recognize; probably a friend of Castiel's. There's a red drink on the bookcase next to him, probably something incredibly sweet and incredibly strong that would have Sam's eyes watering if he had a sip. He pauses every once in a while to drink from it without a care in the world over being a _guy_ and drinking something other than hard alcohol or a beer. Dean would never let _Sam_ get away with that without mocking him for _months_ – longer – afterward.  


  
The person Gabriel's been talking to jerks his head in the direction of the long table still piled up with food. This is his chance. He's been clutching at the box of See's Candy – all of Gabriel's favorites with extra maple walnut because Sam knows he likes to save those for as long as possible, which for him is about a day if he's feeling particularly strong willed – since he got here, waiting for the chance to talk to Gabriel alone. He's finally going to ask him out – if he doesn't completely chicken out first, which is becoming a distinct possibility after standing around looking like an idiot for the majority of the party.  


  
But before he can turn and bolt out of the room – and out of the house altogether to hide away in his old room across the street – he sees, out of the corner of his eye, how Gabriel's eyes land straight on him. The man kicks off the wall, throwing his plate and fork into a large tub designated for trash for the night and grabbing his drink before heading determinedly in Sam's direction. Sam's fingers tighten around the box of chocolates when he turns to meet Gabriel's gaze with a small, shy smile.  


  
"Lookin' kinda lonely over here, Sasquatch." Gabriel winks when Sam rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He'll never be rid of that nickname now that he can even tower over his big brother. But Gabriel has been calling him that since his first major growth spurt in high school shot him straight over Gabriel's average height.  


  
"Merry Christmas to you, too," Sam mutters, but he's still smiling.  


  
Gabriel looks pointedly at the box Sam's been gripping like a lifeline all evening. He bounces on the balls of his feet and smirks knowingly. "That for me?"  


  
Sam really doesn't want to give the gift up, if only because it's given him something to do with his hands since he got here, but the way Gabriel's eyes light up after ripping into the glossy golden wrapping paper is worth the loss of that small comfort. "Ah, Sammy. You're too good to me."  


  
"I know," he sighs, "but someone's gotta make sure you get your daily dose of sugar. You might pass out if you don't and I can't take that on my conscience."  


  
"Come on," Gabriel says, completely ignoring Sam's jab.  


  
He follows Gabriel's lead, walking beside him until they reach the tier of crystal glasses and flutes filled to the brim with golden, bubbly champagne. There's a cooler on the floor beside it with an unnecessarily varied assortment of beer and another on the other side with soda pop for the designated drivers and those who just don't care much for alcohol. Sam grins when Gabriel hands him one of the long flutes. Beer is his usual drink of choice when he goes out, not having been exposed to much else through his older brother that didn't taste like straight gasoline. But since the year he'd turned seventeen, a glass or two of champagne on Christmas has become a tradition he looks forward to every year. It's sweeter than beer, the bubbles more pleasant on his tongue, and leaves him feeling warm and it's the most relaxed he gets around the holidays.  


  
"Thanks," he says, tapping their glasses together when Gabriel holds his drink up.  


  
They drink in comfortable silence for a little while, watching the people milling around the room. His hands cease their nervous twitching as his chest starts to heat up from the alcohol, loosening him up just enough to dampen his incessant need to fidget. It's nice, just standing next to Gabriel, close enough that their arms would brush if he moved.  


  
But finishing his first glass of champagne doesn't make what he's wanted to do all night any easier and before long he's biting his lip anxiously, even as he tries to keep it from becoming obvious. Gabriel beats him again, though, starting to talk just as Sam's about to finally say something. He's good at that, walking up to Sam or talking to him right when Sam's getting ready to run away – without the actual running, he doesn't want to look like a total freak – or ready to start talking and making a fool out of himself. He can't imagine what the first two years of high school would have been like without Gabriel there to save him from himself sometimes.  


  
"I've been thinking – "  


  
"This can't be good."  


  
Gabriel's mouth opens in a mock expression of shock, eyes wide and affronted like Sam's said something horrible.  


  
"Shut up, you know you want to hear my awesome idea –"  


  
"You mean like how I listened when you told me to put itching powder in Dean's clothes?" he counters, raising his eyebrow in challenge. But Gabriel only chuckles, eyes twinkling as he continues the familiar argument.  


  
"That was funny!"  


  
"He put _nair_ in my shampoo to get back at – mmmph."  


  
Sam's eyes widen comically and he makes a sound embarrassingly reminiscent of a _squeak_ when Gabriel kisses him. Gabriel's lips are sticky sweet from his fruity drink and Sam can taste the strawberry daiquiri – thankful he was wrong in his assumption of the strength of the man's drink – when he licks his own lips after Gabriel pulls away.  


  
"Wa – Was that your idea?" he asks when the shock starts to wear off.  


  
"No," Gabriel smirks, "That was to shut you up long enough for me to ask you to be my New Year's date, kiddo."  


  
"Oh."  


  
"Yeah, _oh_ ," Gabriel drawls, rolling his eyes with a smile that says _I know you're a little slow but I like you anyway_.  


  
"Yes," Sam breathes, but it's muffled by their lips coming together again in their second kiss of the night.  


  
He can't wait for New Year's.  


**END**


End file.
